“Maybe not,” I agreed. “It’s just . . . today I’m wondering if I’ll ever be the way I was before all of this happened.” I paused, watching him. “Do you ever feel that way?”
He smiled sadly. “All the time. But I think once you’ve experienced loss and devastation, you can’t ever go back. You just have to go forward.”
“How are you doing it?”
“Well, it hasn’t been a smooth transition. I went from being a big city music major to a bookstore owner in a town I never imagined myself living in. And I’m thankful, because in a way it’s allowed me to discover deeper parts of myself. I’m learning I’m stronger than I thought; that I can figure all of this out without guidance from family. I guess it’s taught me there is so much more to life than I originally thought. I actually resented this town when I first moved here.”
“You don’t anymore?”
“No. I’m learning to love walking down by the boat docks in the early morning, hearing nothing but gulls and a small town waking up. I’m learning to look at each day like something to embrace and appreciate. I’m not the person I was a couple years ago, or even a couple months ago. I used to think all there was to life was music and enormous ambitions. I’d like to think I still have those ambitions, and of course I still have music, but that’s not all there is. And I know I could never understand what you’re going through, but I think the same might be true for you. You might not ever feel like the person you were a few weeks ago, but maybe you can grow into someone who will nod at the past with appreciation for what it was, and accept new possibilities.”
I realized that Alex was a lot like Addison. That was perhaps why I felt so safe with him. And he was so wise; much wiser than me. “I can’t imagine that now, but I hope you’re right. Do you think we would have been good friends if we had met a couple years ago?”
He smiled. “I think we would have been good friends. But I think we met at just the right time.”
“Yeah,” I smiled too. “I think you’re right.”
His eyes grew serious. “How are you feeling?”
I knew he was referring to my pregnancy. I tucked my hands into my hoodie and flattened my palm against my abdomen. “Confused. Scared. Lost.” I shook my head. “I had an appointment tonight at Newport Women’s Clinic.”
“An ultrasound?”
“No. Just a consult. I, um . . . I have an appointment for Saturday. I think I’m going to terminate.” I said the last part with very little emotion and braced for his response.
He looked down at the ground and nodded slowly. He seemed to struggle with how to respond. I spared him from needing to think of something to say. “I don’t know how that makes you feel. My friend Addison has tried to talk me out of it. My sister feels that way too. But it’s the only option for me. I don’t think I would choose this if had gotten pregnant under different circumstances.”
He looked at me again, still nodding. “Nobody can tell you what to do, May. I could never possibly know how you’re feeling, and it’s not my job to influence you one way or the other.”
“How do you feel about it? About abortion?” I asked.
He ran his hand over Cash’s neck, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “I was raised to believe that life begins at conception. It was my parents’ moral conviction, and I suppose it’s always been mine too.”
I chewed on my lip. Even though I knew what he said wouldn’t influence me, I still cared what he thought. “So you feel like it’s wrong, even in my case?”
He looked at me. “The thought of it grieves me in a lot of ways. I’ve grieved for you, that you even have to consider doing this. And I’ve grieved for the baby.”
The word “baby” made me tense up. I had refused to even acknowledge that word. That word made what I was planning to do seem so barbaric and inhuman. “I don’t even know how I would make it through this pregnancy. I can’t explain to you how invaded my body feels right now.”
“I know,” he said gently. “And that’s why I can’t tell you what to do. I hope you’ll consider there might be a way to make this awful thing that happened to you into a good thing.”
“How is that even possible?” I sighed, frustrated.
“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “Adoption, maybe? For a couple who can’t have kids?”
“So I would grow this child inside of me, potentially become somewhat attached, and then have to give it away? Alex, enough has already been stolen from me. Maybe this makes me an awful person, but—”
“This doesn’t make you awful,” he insisted. “It makes you human. You’re trying to do the right thing for yourself.”
But what if he was right? What if it was my responsibility to care about the life that was growing inside of me, even if it hadn’t been wanted? I was so confused.
“Whatever you choose, it won’t change how I see you. But I think this choice is so much deeper than you realize right now.”
“What do you mean?” I sighed hopelessly.
“It isn’t about whether or not you should have this baby,” he said, looking into my eyes. “It’s about how you’re going to choose to live your life beyond this. It’s about what you’re going to do with what happened to you.”
I knew Alex couldn’t possible understand what it was like to be raped; what it was like to bear that rapist’s child. But he understood what losing your identity felt like. “Do you remember that question I asked you? About being a bird or a fish?” I asked.
“Yes,” he nodded.
My stomach tightened into a knot. “He asked me that question before he . . .” I took a deep breath. “Anyway, I told him I identified more as a bird than a fish.”
Alex’s jaw flexed. “And then he tried to break you.”
“Yeah.” I blinked back tears, but they still fell.
He reached out and took my hand. “Don’t let him, May.”
“But that’s just it. I’m afraid he already did.”
Alex smiled and shook his head, lifting his hand to touch my cheek in the exact spot that Tyler had hit me. His touch was warm and soothing, and I leaned into it so that maybe, just maybe it would be the touch I would remember forever. “I don’t see a girl who is broken. Bruised, maybe. But not broken,” he said softly.
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so. Now what do you say we go ride?”
I breathed out slowly. “I’d say that sounds amazing.”
We rode together until my mom called to inform me that it was getting too late. By the time I had put Cash up for the night, I was actually genuinely laughing. Alex hugged me before I left. I knew that spark was still there. In fact, it was easier to distinguish this time. But if anything was ever to happen between us, it would have to wait.
Twenty-Five
I WAS TOO SICK to go to school the next day. And the day after that. It honestly felt like I was dying; like my body was giving up from the stress and sickness. And the worst part of it was that I couldn’t even be happy about it. Most women who want a baby are more than happy to endure a little morning sickness. I just felt cursed.
Addison and Danika came to check on me both days after school. By the afternoon I was feeling well enough to at least get out of bed, so I was able to talk to them for a while. They tried to keep it light. I could still sense a wall around Danika, and I actually felt guilty that she might still be blaming herself.
Alex called on Thursday after my friends had gone home for the night. After learning how sick I was, he offered to bring some ginger ale and a cheesy movie to watch. I was about to refuse because it was one thing to let your girlfriends see you looking like the walking dead; it was another for a guy you just kissed a week ago to see the same thing. But in the end, his offer to watch The Princess Bride won me over. I hadn’t seen it since I was a kid, and I missed him.
I came downstairs after showering and was surprised to stumble upon Alex sitting in the kitchen, talking to my parents. I hadn’t expected him so early. “Hey,” h
e grinned. “I come bearing gifts.”
I laughed uncomfortably, toweling the ends of my hair as I approached. At least I had opted for pajamas instead of a bathrobe. He lifted what looked like a beer bottle, but I quickly realized it was some kind of organic ginger ale. “Fancy,” I smirked.
“Says it has real, fresh ginger,” he said, reading the bottle. “And, of course . . .” He pulled a package of saltines out of his coat pocket, offering them both to me with a smile.
I took them, grinning. “Thanks, Alex.” I looked at Mom and Dad, who were both observing us, and I wondered what they were thinking; probably that my life was a train wreck and wondering where Alex fit into it all. Honestly, I was shocked they even let him come over to visit their pregnant teenage daughter. They probably assumed there wasn’t any worse trouble I could get into.
“Let’s watch that movie,” I suggested, nodding toward the living room.
“Thank you for letting me visit, Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara,” he said gratefully. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Mom smiled. I was surprised she wasn’t being stiff and cold.
“Just glad to see May coming out of her bedroom,” Dad said. He winked at me.
It was awkward. I led the way to the living area and put my food and drink on the table so I could set up the movie, but Alex beat me to it. “I’ve got it,” he insisted. “Get comfortable.”
He knelt to insert the DVD. He had taken his shoes off at the door and was wearing mismatched socks: one blue and one green. I don’t know why, but this detail was so endearing to me. “Nice socks,” I teased with a tired grin.
He looked at me over his shoulder and laughed. “I didn’t even notice. Just threw them on as I left.”
Had he hurried over here? I was still taken aback by how he wanted anything to do with me, let alone how much he cared about my wellbeing. He stood up and shrugged out of his coat, laying it over the back of the couch before sitting next to me. He smelled good. Not like cologne; he just smelled good, like body wash and clothes fresh out of the dryer.
Then again, I could smell everything lately. Alex pressed a few buttons on the remote once the menu popped up, and soon the opening credits for the movie began to roll. He then opened my ginger ale by wrapping the bottom of his black t-shirt around the metal cap to twist it. It hissed and fog rolled out of the top.
“Potent stuff,” I mused, taking it from him. “Thank you.”
“Welcome,” he smiled. “It’s what the health food store guy recommended for morning sickness. Said it’ll work better than the canned stuff.”
I took a sip of it and the spice made my eyes water. It was warm going all the way down. But almost instantly, I could feel my stomach beginning to settle. “It’s good.”
“Good,” he said, crossing his ankle over his knee as he settled back into the couch. “I’m really sorry you’ve been so sick.”
“Me too,” I sighed. “It’s been rough.”
He looked at me with caring eyes. “Have you decided for sure?”
I bit the inside of my lip. “I just can’t do this any longer. I hope you don’t think I’m weak for that.”
“No,” he insisted. “I think you’re much stronger than you realize.”
I exhaled shakily and rested my head against the back of the couch. “It’s really good to know I have your support, even if you don’t necessarily agree with my decision.”
“I’ll support you however you need me to, okay? I’m sure a lot of people think men shouldn’t have an opinion in this matter, and I know I couldn’t possibly understand what this is like. My personal convictions are strong and I hope you won’t go through with this. I know you know I would be here all the time with ginger ale and cheesy movies if you decided to keep it. But if you don’t? It’s not going to change anything. I’ll be here for you. That’s how it should be. Nobody should be abandoned or neglected. This might be the hardest thing you ever do.” He nudged my leg with his blue-socked foot. “I’m in your corner, okay?”
“Thank you, Alex. You don’t know what that means to me.”
He smiled and pulled a blanket off the arm of the couch to drape over us. “So, who’s your favorite character?”
I pursed my lips, thinking as I tucked the blanket around me. “Wesley, of course. He’s a total babe.”
Alex laughed. “I think every guy on the planet wishes they could be as suave as Wesley. My favorite is Inigo Montoya.”
“When I was a kid, I thought his name was Aluminum Foil,” I laughed.
Alex cracked up. “Seriously? Aluminum Foil?” Then he quoted: “My name is Aluminum Foil. Prepare to die,” accent and all.
I doubled over, laughing. Alex was dying too. Even his laugh was musical.
“I have a secret for you,” he grinned when he stopped laughing. “But you have to promise not to tell.”
I offered my pinky finger to him with a smile on my face. “Promise.”
He wrapped his pinky around mine. “My full name isn’t really Alexander Adair.”
I lifted one brow, smirking. “Well, of course not. Most people have a middle name too.”
He laughed. “Alexander is my middle name. See, when I was studying music in Portland, I also played at a lot of local venues for extra cash. I know this sounds weird, but I chose to go by my middle name because I felt like it suited me better.”
“Oh?” I inquired, letting go of his pinky. “So what is your first name?”
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, peering at me intently. “Elijah. My full name is Elijah Alexander Adair.”
“Elijah,” I said, testing the name out. I studied his face. God, he was beautiful. “Funny. I think Elijah suits you better than Alex.”
“Seriously?” he squinted, laughing. “Well, you can call me that if you want to. But Alex Adair will be my stage name if I ever get famous,” he winked.
“Deal,” I grinned. “I will keep your secret, Elijah.”
Eventually our conversation died down and we became absorbed in the movie. We each had occasional commentary, like about how you could tell the Rodents of Unusual Size were just people in rat suits, and how terrible and amazing the acting was. It felt good to laugh with him, almost like there was hope for our friendship to be happy sometimes. By the time the movie was almost over, I had fallen asleep on his shoulder.
He woke me with a soft kiss on my forehead. “Hey,” he whispered, tucking my hair away from my face.
I sighed contentedly and lifted my head. “Hey. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”
“You’ll tuck me in?” I asked with one eyebrow raised skeptically.
“Yep. No arguing.” He stood and offered his hand to me, smiling.
I let him help me to my feet and together we went upstairs. Everyone was already in bed. He waited in my room while I brushed my teeth, and I blushed as I passed by him to climb beneath the covers.
He was pensive while he brought the blankets up around me, his eyes concentrated and thoughtful. “What is it?” I asked.
He looked at me and his expression softened. “Just wishing you weren’t in so much pain.”
“I’m really not,” I insisted. “The ginger ale helped.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Oh.”
He knelt beside me and tilted his head, his blue hues twinkling in the lamp light. “Someday we will reflect on our pain as a stepping stone to our happiness. You’ll see.”
My chest ached. I wanted to again feel the way I felt when he kissed me. I wanted that happiness to come now. But it just wasn’t the right time. And maybe it never would be, but I hoped for it. He filled a space in my life that I couldn’t imagine another person ever filling. I couldn’t imagine ever trusting another man the way I trusted him. “I can’t wait for that day.”
He smiled softly. “Goodnight. I’ll let myself out. If you need anything, please call me.”
“I will. Goodnight, Elijah.�
��
“So it begins,” he joked, bending down to kiss my forehead. When he was gone, I curled into a ball and cried myself to sleep. Not for me though. I was crying for him. I wanted so badly for this beautiful person to never feel pain again.
* * *
I DRANK THE REMAINDER of the ginger ale bottle the next morning, determined to go to school. Lying around had meant ample time to catch up on my assignments, but I didn’t want to get behind. Once this pregnancy was terminated, I knew I would be able to get back into the swing of things. I just wished it would happen sooner rather than later.
After forcing down a few saltines, I was able to get showered and dressed to start my day. I found Grace sitting on my bed when I came out of the bathroom.
“Are you going to school?” she asked.
“Yes.” I felt bad for neglecting her and her studies. “I promise I’ll help you tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she murmured, walking over to my window to peer outside. The morning sun rays shone on her porcelain skin and made her look like an angel. She was so beautiful and delicate. So innocent. And I hadn’t been there for her.
“I’m really sorry, Grace,” I sighed. “I know it’s been crazy lately, but I will help—”
“You’re having an abortion tomorrow. The last thing you need is to worry about my studies.”
There was a bitter edge to her tone and it cut me deep. “Grace, you know that won’t change anything. It’s just something I have to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. When have you ever had to do anything in your life? You’ve always done what you wanted. Unlike me, who can’t even have a sandwich before bed without asking.”
“I didn’t ask to be—” I stopped abruptly and hoped she wouldn’t put the pieces together. How could I have been so careless? My blood boiled.
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